To Bloom Among the Blood
by thrashing-light
Summary: In War, one expects their red strings of fate to be cut apart, not to connect people and fulfill destinies. To Zhen Ji and Zhang He, Love had always been a myth, until two unlikely men in Wei proved them wrong. CaoPixZhenJi, ZhangHexXiahouYuan
1. All those Pretty Bruises

Chapter 1

_And All Those Pretty Bruises._

She had no idea it would be her last performance, on stage, full lips parted against her ornate flute. Her hazel eyes downcast as the last note lilted through the air. If she were a weaker woman, tears would be pricking at the corner of her eyes. But she wasn't. she was Zhen Ji, the independent and ever so cold wife of Yuan Xi. Her hands began to tremble.

And they all clapped and nodded, murmuring to each other. What a commodity to have! Such a songbird, such a beauty! The yuan family certainly knew talent and beauty when they saw it, and such a noble visage, and form, what poise! The whole table clamored, save for Zhang He, the rather unusual general who simply sat back, a slight furrow on his brow.

And all she was to them, was a little doll, one to play with and use.

She could hear it all, and she no longer cared. Yuan Xi came up to her, and held out his richly gloved hand. She took it loosely and stepped down off the low stage. Her hand still gripping her flute, a lifeline. Her surroundings but a blur. She managed a glimpse of Zhang He, he looked at her and smirked. She managed a weak smile back, she almost felt dizzy.

"Your songs are as beautiful as always, as are you my lady." Yuan Xi hollowly congratulated and sat down at the long table to start the feast. Zhen Ji sat to his left. Zhang He was the only one at the table who saw, her fading away. It was if her whole body was on autopilot. Her mind was blank, her body numb, her senses had all but failed. Zhen Ji bowed slightly, survival mode had long since taken over. Good thing she was such a good actress.

"Thank you my Lord." Zhen Ji replied dimly, and stared at her plate, while the nobility, generals and tacticians gorged themselves silly on wine and food, before the upcoming battle of Guandu. Zhen Ji managed to slip out unnoticed halfway through. She was after all only a woman, and onto the patio, the slight breeze brushed her soft syrup brown hair across her face as leaned against the railing of the patio.

She wanted to go bathe, she wanted to curl up and disappear. The things he did to her...those unspeakable things. The amount of pure shame she felt seemed to haunt to her like a ghost.

_'I'm pathetic. I am unworthy of my father's name. I am weak and I let myself, and all those around me suffer. And to think I could be strong for them, protect them from the Yuan family's insatiable hunger for female company, consensual or otherwise. I am a fool; I can't even look at myself without feeling nauseous'_ She scowled at her reflection in a puddle in the granite. She looked away at the mess she saw.

She couldn't even bare looking at herself, she wrapped her slight arms around her waist.

"That pig...I wont... I can't...allow him to live after this. After what he did to me."Zhen Ji spat into the wind, her words like acrid smoke smoldering in the air. Her eyes alit as she envisioned herself bludgeoning her husband senseless. Her flute stained ruby red.

"but...I suppose that threat is hollow, I can hardly even gain the energy to defend myself" Zhen Ji murmured, defeated, at the verge of wondering if she could find rocks to fill her dress with, and slip into the river. As unnoticed as all those pretty burises on her body.

At that exact moment, the curtain leading into the dining hall had fluttered open, and Zhen Ji unintentionally gasped. had he heard? Her stomach plunged and twisted into a knot. '_Surely if i can't even attempt revenge for what he has done, then my life is truly worthless'_

"I've seen the look on your face before Lady Zhen. He has taken you against your will again has he not?" Zhange He's voice was low and venomous, wishing he could grab his combat claws himself and cut Yuan Xi to ribbons, but his time will come soon enough.

"Watch your tongue, you presume far too much General Zhang He, remember to whom you are speaking!" Zhen Ji lashed out, whipping her deadly flute at him as one would a sword. Zhang He looked at her in mild surprise, she was never this formal with him, he must have really hit the nail on the head.

"I, Lady Zhen Ji would never let a man do..." Zhen Ji stopped mid sentence, her voice wavering in the balmy night. For all the confidence she portrayed, for the high standards she held for herself, she had done the last thing she ever thought possible. She had everything stripped from her, her dignity, her strength, her happiness, and now even her will.

"Now, Ji, please, don't take that tone wi-" before Zhang He could even finish his sentence, Zhen Ji dropped her flute to the ground. Her lifeline. The clatter of the hollow metal instrument on the unforgiving granite made Zhang He stop. He had never seen her drop her flute, not in combat, and certainly not in any everyday activity. His blood ran cold at the sight of it.

"What is the use of any of this? Of this war, of this land, of any of it." Zhen Ji bit out. "I'm done with living like this. I shant continue to...to..degrade what my father wanted from me into this path." Zhen Ji's voice cracked; her mouth dry.

"I am surely meant for more greatness than this...am I not correct Zhang He?" Zhen Ji looked into his brown eyes, searching for answers she could not recieve on her own. She was trembling slightly, either out of anger, frustration or fear. Zhang He put a reassuring hand firmly on her shoulder. She felt so cold.

"Fear not my beautiful flower, for tomorrow, the upcoming battle against Wei is one that will surely turn the tides of this ugly war, filled with loathsome, graceless people." Zhang He flipped his hand in the air, as a gesture, and gracefully back-flipped onto a crate near the door he entered from. His long espresso pony tail flit around in the wind.

"The Yuan family, though proud, will soon get a real test of might against the mighty Wei. Lady Zhen, we shall fight with dignity, grace, but first and foremost beauty tomorrow. We shall demonstrate to all around us, that we are the glorious flowers of the battlefield, and no one can take that from us. We shall blossom, take root, and defeat any who stand in our way to greatness. Is that not what your father would have wanted?" Zhang He bellowed into the twilight air, and Zhen Ji knelt to pick back up her precious flute. She examined it and looked back up at him, her face unreadable.

"I don't know if can fight as I once did anymore, but, if there is a battle I could find my grip again, It would be this one." Zhen Ji turned to him, her flaring hazel eyes locking with his, her gaze slowly regaining the light that Zhang He missed so dearly in his best friend and confidant. He stepped down off the crate.

"Tomorrow, we will defend the supply depot Wuchou and see where our fates lie." She turned to him and, much to the shock of Zhang He, reached out, and took his hand, and there, on her face, was something truly rare. A smile that reached Zhen Ji's almond eyes. He squeezed her hand, and they looked out onto the horizon painted crimson and magenta.

Tomorrow, their lives will either continue to glitter, or fall as one of those stars in the sky, and as Zhang He looked down on Zhen Ji, he knew that if her star would to fall, he would let his fall with it. There would simply be no fun without her, regardless of victory or defeat by Yuan Shu's forces tomorrow.

A silent pact he made with himself, for surely if he even hinted a single syllable of it to Zhen Ji, she would call him a coward and tersely berate him for such ridiculous thoughts. But to be quite honest, Zhang He knew that they were somehow connected in this web of fate, and that whatever would befall her or him tomorrow, would befall the other as well.

"Our fates, Ji, are to spread our beauty, and shine as bright as possible, with no regret. Victory or defeat, we shall dance, and let the gods of war decide if we are worth of an encore." Zhang He announced and bowed ever so slightly. Zhen Ji smirked slightly.

"You and your poetry Zhang He, does it ever grow tiresome?" She laughed lightly and turned to face him. Pushing his arm lightly, she straightened up tall, ignoring the pain in the bruises and the welts that laced across her lower back, thighs and quads and leapt into the air, flipped, and landed on the ground below, graceful as a landing raven.

"Let us see if your words are as contrived as your attacks" Zhen Ji spun her flute around her fingers and placed it threateningly to her lips. Zhang He couldn't help but laugh as he went to the armory and grabbed his claws.

It was long overdue for a sparring match.


	2. All those Pretty Trinkets

_Chapter Two: All Those Pretty Trinkets_

Time had surfaced to yet another crossroads in her life, or perhaps a cliffside? Zhen Ji, not one for overdone metaphors wanted to shrug it off, but even she could not admit that the battle of Guan Du simply unfolded to be the same as the ones before it. Was it anticipation that tingled in her spine down through her fingertips?

No. It coudlnt be.

It conjured as something sinister, and much more dense. The knowledge that this would be her final encore for Yuan Xi.

One way or another, something here would change.

As she prefected the peacock feather patterned sleeve on her left hand, keeping her back straight and tall on her dark midnight horse she regarded the soldiers in fron to her. Though stoic and sometimes cruel, they recognized and respected her

The poor infantrymen Yuan Shao managed to cobble together for his grand army collaborrated as nothing more than an odd collection of fatigue, confusion, doubt and desperation. Even though they wore his colors, she knew they were not his army.

In war time, children just like learning how to walk, learned to picked up swords.

No devotion could be had here, on this wasteland. The sun levatating precariously in its late afternoon position before it would fall back commoners coudln't relate to Yuan Shao and the riches and the glory he accumulated, all those pretty tinkets, all those wonderful feasts. It was something a peasant could never hope to acheive, let alone witness.

Unless of course you were Zhen Ji.

She fought back the sneer rising to her usually placid face. Her father fought so hard to earn her a life he felt her worthy of, to bring honor to their name. And she intended to do so, not as some frightened, timid maiden of the son of Yuan Shao, but as a general, in battle. Her fingers itched along her long, intricate lapis lazuli flute. She brought demons when she played that flute.

Few had the talents as she, the beauty, the grace, the persistence, the poise and the control as she, and prove it she would.

And here on the plains of Guan du, she would show them all her requiem. She would show them all that she was not a just a pretty face, not just some delicate flower to dump your fantasies onto, to imprint your ideals.

Her musky eyes cradled more facets than anyone could ever know.

There will always come someone younger, fairer, more demure, however ther will never be anyone with the stealthy combination she perfected, who managed to make her subordinates revel in her brutality, while hardly breaking a sweat.

With that, she reared her horse around to her troops protecting Wu Chao, the supply stronghold in which Zhang He made his impenatrable citadel, the towering walls, and with the man behind them, certainly looked so.

The wind caught the ornaments in her hair, and the sun glinted from behind her. the sihlouette gave off the impression that death conjured itself infront of them, and it didnt look half bad.

"You all. None of you were lucky to be born with status, gold nor station. That matters not to this General. You all shall show the enemy that we all embody flesh, hair, but you embody the strength and courage. Simple as that. Stand tall, and hold on to your sword and do not back down. Wu Chao shall not fall!" Zhen Ji commanded, her flute now pressed to her lips as she played a song that spiked through the ranks, short staccato notes.

Colorful, spherical, mysterious nodes bubbled out through the air, causing sparks to fly as they exploded, and the men all raised their swords and shout. As she reared her horse back around she turned and saw the enemy advance, like a purple haze across the humble brown plain.

Oh yes. Her blood itched; her lips curled. This fight is what she craved. Anticipation did not crawl through her nerves; excitement did not tighten her tendons.

Addiction.

She needed this fix. She could not live without showing her fellow men her exquisit fighting style and her compulsion for dominence.

And this would be her overdose. She had planned it perfectly.

The troops footprints thundered forth, and she kicked in her heels of her beloved mare and they galloped to the enemy, trampling poor footsoldier in her path, and bludgeoning others in her way. She flute was already stained with red, and hair stuck to its dragon headed tip as she planted her hands firmly on the horses saddle, flipped heel over hands and twisted though the air and onto the ground.

Her horse's time had not yet come, Her fight continued solo now.

And any infantryman would have sworn she had the poise of a musician and the looks that could make any man weak in the knees, but none were able to see the feral glee behind her eyes.

Yes. She kept herself quite in check.

Side Kick, twist, hit, lips pursed: exhale. back roundhouse kick, front kick, downward hit, upward hit, slide, lips pursed exhale more. Rise, hit, back roundhouse, reverse side kick, cross hit, lips pursed, exhale exhale exhale.

And just like her dress in her husband's bedroom, the purple fell all around her.

More troops surrounded her, almost too many, and again she sprang into action attacking one, and then throwing out her flute, watching cartwheel in air, orbiting her, and hit the surrounding officers, either concussing them, or knocking them out completely.

"This might be too much for you!" She smirked, and with double speed, she leapt into her dance, but as the bodies fell, she felt her fighting technique become more like routine. She indeed simply discovered nothing unique about this battle, that was supposed to be so different.

This coudln't be how it was supposed to feel.

She wanted satisfaction, She desired little snowflakes to dart through her blood stream, like sparks of cold through her warm tissue. but none of this occured.

She almost frowned.

She caught herself simply going through the motions, precise and swift as they always were, and as strong as they ever could be, there was something not in synch.

Strike, swing, flip kick, dodge, thwack, block. Sharp exhale. Crescent kick, back hand, slide exhale twice, tornado kick, swing, block dodge, exhale.

Blood fountained forth through their ears, eyes and noses of all within a close vicinity of her, and through full, pursed lips she gasped. Violent, radiant and alluring, She represented these attributes, but could not grasp them.

She never felt more adrift.

She whipped her flute around to crack another pathetic peasant across his skull, the crimson ribboning in the air. but the red didnt glitter like it should have, and the twack seemed just like hitting wood, it didnt resonate. It felt hollow, like her flute. She usually tasted thunder when she fought; this felt like the doldrums.

Yet if any of her enemies noticed her ever so slight change in demeanor, they didnt live long enough to comment on it. Like a fire's smoke with no where to go, she felt herself asphyxiating on the ultimate possibility: The mighty, powerful, violent, beautiful, talented Zhen Ji's will to fight could not be unleashed.

Zhen Ji's vocabulary now included the phrase: giving up.

Apathy. She almost mouthed the word after she unleashed a particularly deadly requiem to her now brain scrambled victims. And to think people mocked her for her flute on the battlefield.

She knew she could slay anyone in this warzone, And that knowledge alone should have been enough for her to feel the icy blizzard of persistence to reanimate her again. But her pride remained dormant, settling under a thick layer of smouldering ashes. If Zhen Ji were a lesser woman she would have smiled, but sentimentality fell short in her priorities.

"Curses!" She shouted as a sword crossed her vision, close, too close, she hadn't been paying attention. She barely got off one of her ultimate techniques before the metal knicked her forehead.

"Let me show you how I feel!" She thrusted her flute high into the air and icicles, large and small materialized and plummeted down from the heavens, impaling all enemies around her, but not her allies...wait. allies?

Since when had she left her allies? And thats when the startling realization hit her, her troops' numbers had significantly dwindled. She didnt know how, she had racked up quite the body count, and they outnumbered the enemy quite severly. The carnage that blanketed the battlefield hadn't even reached her senses, the smell of corpses, the heat of the air, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

Blood? she absentmindedly brushed her lip, It was bleeding, but just barely. Since when? From what? Zhen Ji soon felt a rapidly growing darkness evolve deep within her chest. She couldnt be going crazy could she? What was this sorcery?

Even gazing upon the horizon as the bulbous juicy peach sun fatly lay across the plain. Sunset. how...how long had she been fighting? hours? It had to be. Zhen Ji, the perpetually shrewd and aware warrior had simply been too lost in her own mind to figure out that the enemy had turned the tide of the battle? She sharply turned to the supply depot Wu Chao as the precious fushia and tangerine sky leaked away into the forboding purple.

Zhen Ji felt immense relief lift a weight off her shoulders, Wu Chao still held. However, when she pivoted back to strike another hapless infantrymen into the next life, she spotted a glint of sun off armor.

A general was advancing, one of her allies units had surely been routed, Yuan Shao stationed her far from the front line, a last line of defense, and for a general in the back to advance this far did not bode well. She flicked her leg and swept the legs out from another soldier before excuting another painful, aneurysm achieving note.

Her eyebrows almost knit together, the advancing general appeared to be...sauntering towards her. His armoured shoulders glinted dark blue, while the pristene white of his clothes seemed to glow like the sunset in the breeze around him, his long dark brown hair fastened in a low horse tail, while the shorter strands fell to around chin length. His chin strong and his eyes deep. Confidnence eminated from him.

While he stood as no giant in stature, he held himself tall and regal, just like the son of Yuan Shao, her husband. His wicked grin on his face seemed too natural as he rendered another one of her allied soldiers limbless with one of his twin swords that glinted deadly in the setting sun. She readied herself. He didnt look that tough, while his shoulders were broad, he hardly carried the bulky muscles that would require to overpower her. He lifted one of his swords towards her slowly, almost with a lilt.

"Why, such a beautiful flower out here on the battlefield. Come with me, I Cao Pi will give you everything you the world." His voice sounded like rocks moving in a current of a riverbed, cutthroat yet gentle, rough yet silvery. He sparked within her a cascade of chills, that seemed to make her very capularies come to life. Those words that flew from his mouth enraged her beyond any measurable parameter. Avalanches of different ways and methods with which she could completely destroy him from the inside out fanned in her mind. She only wanted him to feel agony.

"What arrogence! I will not forgive such rude words!" She cooly sliced back at him. In two simple sentences he encapsulated what she hated about this world, what she despised about what every man, saw in her. Some sort of delicate flower, something to be captured, something to be taken. A mere thing! She would be no man's possession, no man's trinket, no man's anything.

She did not need saving, A flower could not be a more terrible adjective to be called, and few had dared to even say it to her. Yet, this brute, this imbicile dare speak to her with such familiarity, such presumptuousness, that he could somehow provide her with something she needed, while being so wrong about her. The cold rushed through her body, and she felt something within her shift, and shrug off the warm, suffocating ashes that weighed down her struggling spirit.

"Well, I suppose that's more your problem than mine. Tell me, do you really want to stay here-" he gestered to the decay "with these Yuans? Or would you rather blossom beneath me?" His cocky attitude had jettisoned Zhen Ji into another atmosphere of astonishment. How...dare he? Not even her husband had been so foward in addressing her when he first laid his shallow eyes upon her. And again with the flower analogy. Never, in her existence had anyone sparked the wintry fury in her so acutely. She had to kill him. This man was not allowed to exist.

"I am no man's flower. And you shant live to see the resolution to the question you pose!" She flew at him with such speed she saw a glint of surprise in his eyes as she managed to knock him off balance with a quick front kick to his sternum, managing to land another glancing blow to his shoulder before her flute met steel.

Clearly he hadn't expected her to open with such an ungraceful kick, but she couldnt stand by and be predictable. He then lashed out with both his swords, probably thinking he could easily overcome the beautiful lady with the advantage of two weapons, but years of sparring with Zhang He had overly prepared Zhen Ji with the agility to parry both Silver Swallows.

"Sir, I Do hope you have the stamina to keep up with me." She taunted; her voice laced in the syrupy double intendre. This caused the ever so slow pause in his fighting stance, his eyebrows lifted in bewilderment. She struck a nerve, and had she been less enraged, may have laughed at the action. This did not appear to be a man bewildered easily.

"I see, your thorns are strategically placed my flower." He laughed and countered with a rather impressive thrust with his left sword and horizontal slash with his right, she managed to dodge the thrust and parry the slash. She wanted to rip out his throat with that last retort, and then thats realized the entire time, instead of her usual disinterested or haughty facial expression, her eyebrows too were knit in frustration and irritation.

This man is the incarnate of the demons sent to piss her off. clearly. No one got under her skin like this before

However, with him advancing so quickly, Zhen Ji hadn't the time, nor the appropriate distance to press her deadly flute to her flushed lips. The entire time she struck him he parried every blow, she had to work over time to compensate. Her speed and agility outmatched his, but he carried his body well, and could tell he used his superior strength to his full advantage. Both concentrated on their opponant, however, Zhen Ji wanted to completely destroy him, Cao Pi, on the other hand, was unreadable in his intentions. and that pestered her, along with the way his hair managed to glint in the sunlight like ink, and the smooth planes of his face.

His condescention thickly painted on his face as an unshakable smirk.

She admitted to herself that this pompous stain knew how to fight, but she had to finish this fast, the sky filtered into a darker set of blues and purples, and she had to make sure Wu Chao was safe.

Cao Pi, to be fair, had studied Zhen Ji fighting from afar, and it bewitched him. Up until this point, any general he had seen on the battlefield had all been weeds, or simply stuffed, rich puppets. He expected the same from her. But no, She radiated with a violent temper, yet perfectly composed, as if this battle, and everyone in it, meant nothing more to her than another obsticle on her way to success. Her technique was splendid, and she had no business belonging to these imbicile aristocrats whom obviously had no idea the woman they had in her employ.

If they had, they wouldnt have given her this death wish of defending the one thing Wei wanted most: the supply depot Wu Chao.

This strategy implimented by Yuan Shao did not mean he thought highly of her, no just the opposite. He never thought Wei could break through his ranks, and thus if they ever did, to put his most uncared for officers in the back, to serve as a buffer for him to make a hasty retreat.

The lack of insight into this woman's clear intelligence and skills confounded Cao Pi. She did not deserve such treatment, such ill-regard. And Cao Pi wanted her to know that, and perhaps she already did. The look in her eyes before she recognized him on the battlefield as an opponant, the way she conducted herself, had shifted, she seemed almost weary, and that troubled him.

She also bled from her lips, painting them a forbidden shade of red that he wanted to get closer to, and wanted to erase at the same time. To think she had put herself in such a precarious position as to get wounded in such a manner perplexed him. She did not seem like the wreckless type. And when he engaged her, he obviously enraged her. He had no other word for it than intruiged. He had never met anyone on the battlefield whom he had such a hard time predicting, but simultaneously, flowing with so well. He wanted her for so much more than just her lovely figure and face.

And thats when he realized he made a critical error, he parried her attack in the wrong way.

She lashed out and he felt the crack against his armor that glanced to the side of his head. A glancing blow, but so quickly she managed to kick him in the kidney, an unprotected pressure point, what had she been wearing, steel shoes? Then his vision dimmed for a moment as the opposite side of head flashed in pain, a crescent kick, that sly wench. And in his slight shock, and soon to develop horror, he looked at her revel in her victory to twirl her flute to her face.

It was all the time she needed to put that damned flute of hers to her lips, purse them, and blow.

"You are my prisoner Cao Pi" He heard her velvet voice announced, like the finest red grape wine in a delicate dark glass. and he didnt have enough time to ready himself fully.

Cao Pi wanted to double over and scream. He had been vaguely warned about a musician in the employ of Yuan Shao's forces who could slay men with mere notes from a flute. But he had not expected it to be true. He staggered away from her, the flute's notes gripping his head in a vice and shredding it simultaneously. No coherent thought formulated in his head except to end the pain anyway possible. Cao Pi knew he couldnt endure much of this any longer, so he summoned all the magic he could.

"This ought to cool you off!" Cao Pi shouted, splinters and crags of Ice formed all around him before launching at her in a vain attempt to stop the pounding of his head. The magic cancelled out, and both he and Zhen Ji looked not only mildly surprised but exhausted. Right as Zhen Ji took a step forward to continue her assault, a roar of smoke, orange and crackling came from behind her. She couldnt mask the the instant of sheer panic that swept across her usually placid features.

Wu Chao burned.

"Zhang He!" The name left her lips before she realized what she said. Her fury and panic consumed, her. She permitted this lowlife Cao Pi to distract her from her task.

She had failed.

She let her best friend, her confidant, down. She coudln't live with the sharp pang of guilt deep in her gut. It twisted like a dagger. She rushed towards the flaming depot, knowing that the flames had not spread to its entirety, perhaps, she could rescue him quickly, and they could flee.

Flee and be free.

The thought alighted her mind in a momentary hopeful bliss. The future of them one day being happy together. Could she salvage it? She knew she had to, she rushed towards the depot, but not before horses galloped past her, nearly trampling her. They rallied and neighed, and the Generals who sat in their saddles looked menacing.

Not menacing enough.

"Remove yourselves from my path you beasts, or I will play a requiem for you!" Zhen Ji warned, however, the men on the horses all but looked and chuckled. Zhen Ji turned around to see Cao Pi behind her, walking, not sauntering towards her. His face unreadable, but without its condescension. Swords drawn.

"You are hardly in the position to be telling me to do anything, with a mere flick of the wrist I could decapitate you where you stand. I do not understand why our Lord's son here fought you for so long." Zhen Ji was taken aback, unintentionally she balked at looked back at Cao Pi. He had watched them fight?

Had Cao Pi been merely distracting her? Had she not been a challenge for him? He coudln't have been merely toying with her! Her eyes narrowed with such malice that the flaming air turned frigid around her. She could see no evidence that their fight was not mutual, but the doubt climbed in her mind.

She hated him far more than anyone else on this planet. And she hoped he knew it.

Humiliation almost overwhelmed her. Zhen Ji, typically a woman of great pride, to be distracted, surrounded, and then belittled caused her to bite her lip. She didnt know how to proceed besides trying to die fighting. She assessed the situation.

The man with a sword as large as he was, mounted on his horse, looked serious, and another more pleasant and stout with an ornate bow looked related to him. Both looked like seasoned generals. Outnumbered, and surrounded, she knew her time had come to an end, and as the embers and flames tongued out from Wu Chao, she could have thought of no better ending.

"Fine then do so. I shant stand here and suffer through more of this foolishness." Zhen Ji, walked towards the man holding the great scimitar, and stood beneath the blade, her hazel eyes locking with his dark ones, as they darted behind her, and to the other mounted general. Relieved to finally have this battle come to an end, she welcomed the blade's bite.

Forgive me Zhang he.

She had grown weary of men's games, of all this turmoil. She concluded, deep down, that she and Zhang He would never see their happiness together. Perhaps if she could do what Cao Pi did to her, distract them, he could escape. She placed her flute at her feet, hastily fixed her hair ornament and hair, she didn't want to die looking like she hadn't planned on it!

"Stop stalling and make it quick!" Zhen Ji's facade of indifference washed over her as pointed up towards the man. His incredulous facial expression vanished and he smiled and as he raised his great sword. Then she heard his voice. The voice she hated so much. The voice that sounded like the stones that made rapids in a river.

"Xiahou Dun, that will not be necessary. You and Xiahou Yuan go and capture Wu Chao, I will deal with my future wife here." Cao Pi's voice rang with the baritone of a commander and she cut her gaze back at him. She was rendered speecheless. Future wife? Was he insane?

"Yes my Lord." And with that simple sentence, Xiahou Dun and Yuan rushed off to the only corner of Wu Chao untouched by flame. Their horses kicking up dust into the air, where it mingled with the smoke and ash. She turned to him, wondering if she should pick up her flute where she had laid it. He walked over to her, and she hadn't realized the intensity in his grey eyes till now.

"It would be a waste...to destroy such a beautiful flower. Leave this place with me, you know death is not what you seek here. A life away from these Yuans is what you desire." He stated, sheathing his swords and extending his hand. A gesture from anyone else would have been foolish, and despite the hatred in her, despite every ounce of her that wanted to slap that hand away for its imprudence, she knew something.

He was right. She wanted to live, but she looked to Wu Chao.

"A very talented, intelligent and strong General is currently inside Wu Chao. Your army would be lucky to have him serve you. Allow him to defect, his name is Zhang He." Zhen Ji, never one to submit, ordered to Cao Pi. Surely they would want to take him anyway, but she would simply take her own life if they slew him here.

Their lives were entwined by a red thread of fate.

Cao Pi laughed, and at first, Zhen Ji thought he would refuse her request.

"How presumptuous, but I can arrange that my bride." He bent down, picked up her flute and handed it to her. And astonished she stood there. No man had never...ever showed her...that kind gesture. To pick up her weapon, and give it to her with such trust, while his weapons were sheathed. She could easily attack him! She, however, for some unfathomable reason, trusted him to keep Zhang He safe. A feeling that wasn't quite hate stirred within her.

And she coudlnt pinpoint what feeling it was as she took her flute from him, and her fingertips brushed his strong, but smooth hand.

sorry about the long lull in updates, with moving, new job and my computer breaking and losing everything, it took me a while to get back into the groove of writing. this chapter was heavily focused on Zhen Ji, the next will give us a bit more insight into everyone's favorite dancing general, as well as cao pi and xiahou yuan.

thanks an please tell me what you think!

-TL


	3. All Those Pretty Demons

_Chapter 3: All Those Pretty Demons_

Zhang He convinced himself burning down Wu Chao would be the closest thing he could do to get back at Yuan Xi.

So burned it to the ground he did. Laughing all the way.

Zhang He had no idea what had happened to his dear friend Zhen Ji in the thick of battle, but as sure as the sun sets and rises, Zhen Ji was alive and kicking.

Literally kicking. She had to be...she just had to.

"Now, troops, let us stage a tactical retreat, gracefully rendering Wu Chao asunder is surely the most beautiful option!" The last vestiges of his troops dipped like cranes in a shallow lake, and rushed out of the last, unburned corner of Wu Chao. He wanted to be sure no one was left behind in the flaming ruins.

After this, Zhang He calculated, there could be no future for him. The Wei forces would surely reach him soon, and even if he got out alive, he would still be fleeing through Yuan Shao's territory, if the Wei forces didn't root him out, the once proud nobleman Yuan Shao would. He knew Yuan Shao would not let Zhang He's transgression simply go unnoticed. Yuan Shao liked vengeance just like the rest of them. Maybe even then he could rendezvous with Zhen Ji and let the enemy find the supply base they wanted so desperately aflame!

His hope that Zhen Ji and he could flee and find peace together was a flighty one at best. She would have defended these walls to her last breath, and he didn't think that out of egotism towards the bond they shared, but out of simple stubbornness and pride. He knew it because she hated losing just as much as he hated sloppiness.

He began to bound towards the last opening of Wu Chao, he drew up his claws into the smokey night sky, about to handspring over the wall when he could hear the horses coming soon for him.

What? So soon? Zhang He partially shocked, almost faltered in his leap upon the wall of Wu Chao. As he looked out over the expanse of the battlefield he could see nothing but dead bodies before him, and the advancing Wei forces. He could see no sight of Zhen Ji's unit anywhere. Perhaps he jumped to the wrong conclusion, maybe she kicked no longer.

Zhang He's body felt rubbery as he back flipped back down off the wall of Wu Chao, his stomach still churning with bile. They had taken the one person from him that allowed him to tolerate the ugliness that plagued his mind.

All those little devils that would sprout forth, chanting that he would never achieve his vision, his goals. The seeds of murky crassness that threatened to choke the beautiful dreams that kept him going.

They would all pay.

He stepped towards the unsteady sounds of horse hooves, tall and with a murderous gleam in his sharp whiskey colored eyes. For these Wei horses to get into Wu Chao, the logical reasoning concluded that Zhen Ji must have been slain. And Zhang He's emotions growled through his being as his most secluded fear sprang to life.

Zhang He readied himself, his breath evened out, how it became uneven and ragged mystified him to begin with, and the hoof beats thudded closer. He had never felt the urge to render flesh from bone like this before.

He had nothing more to lose.

As the two generals approached, Zhang He rolled his eyes, of course they would send the most stereotypical Wei generals after him, they looked like two thugs, one with an over large scimitar, someone must be compensating! And the other had a rather large, ornate archery bow with a humorous grin stapled to his face.

Surely, he must have angered some gods. He just desired his last battle to have a bit more poise, a bit more...elegance. But beggars can't be choosers and Zhang He simply would not beg, nor bow, nor submit to these two meat-headed thugs of Wei.

"Welcome to the party! I hope you like what I've done with the place, it needed a change of lighting!" Zhang He's face turned into an unhinged grin and he flicked his claws, calling forth his trademark violet butterflies that spirited upwards into the charred heavens. It could be too easy to underestimate Zhang He, and he used that to his advantage. For He and Zhen Ji realized that masking their true intentions and emotions, they could easily topple their enemies.

For if your enemies don't know your weak points, they can't use them against you. And surely emotions were the most potent weakness of all.

For few witnessed the true wrath of Zhang He. He could mercilessly cut men down to fillets of flesh, and gleefully present it as a simple dance to honor the gods of encore. To his enemies, he appeared as an effeminate, delicate man, incapable of brutality. Until of course, Zhang He unleashed his fury, his taste for ferrying the alive souls to the realm of the dead piqued his interest as the ultimate grace for the ugly. For truly, what could be more perfectly gorgeous than being the one to bring someones death upon them? For making the truly detestable realize their own mortality, their own weaknesses, their own worth?

Zhang He could think of nothing, and that's what excited him about slaughtering the two generals infront of him, rendering their bodies into piles of flesh, and leaving to find out what befell his best friend. He knew they those two had answers, and some responsibility for what had befallen her.

"You there. Surrender at once you are outnumbered." The taller general beckoned forth, pointing his sword at him. Zhang He scoffed.

"Surrender?" Zhang He laughed "I did not simply redecorate to surrender, where is the elegance in that? Surely you wouldn't mind one last dance? I certainly don't mind cutting in." Zhang He lunged low into an jaguar stance, his right arm pulled back behind him, his left arm out in front, his quad and calf muscles tensed and rippled as he flew into the air. With a downward spiral he drilled into the earth between the horses causing them to buck and rear, knocking off the stouter of the two generals, and causing the taller one to struggle to regain his horse. The stouter general's horse, frantic from the flames and the lack of rider galloped off into the smokey abyss.

"Deal with the crazy one Yuan, I'll get your horse." The tall general brought around his horse "I don't have time for such nonsense!" The Scimitar-wielding general clipped his heels into his horse and rode off. Zhang He flipped and just in time as an arrow wizzed by his head and grazed his left cheekbone. Now this was a fight he could get behind.

"Ah, and what a partner you will be!" Zhang He cackled with glee, he hadn't had the chance to fight with a skilled archer yet. Zhang He himself, craved the feel of the bow strings between his fingers, and the twang it made right before the twack that finalized the move into his target. But on the battlefield, his claws called his name as the weapon of choice. Something moved in him a time ago that turned him darker, twisted and possessed with the notion of breaking people at a close distance.

He deflected another arrow meant for his heart, and another for his right leg.

He regarded the general before him, and Zhang He could tell he was puzzled, and rightfully so. The Wei general, decked out in heavy Armour, intricate silver and lapis lazuli stood shorter than Zhang He by at least a few inches, his stature could almost be described as the opposite of Zhang he indeed. He was all thick muscle, and a haphazard bushy, though groomed beard trimmed his rather square face. He had deep set forest green eyes that stood alert behind thick eyebrows. His face seemed to always be upturned in some manner of cheeky smile.

Zhang He sneered, revolted that this stout general could find such happiness in such an ugly battle. His body shook with incitement.

Though if Zhang He paused to reflect on the other generals appearance, Xiahou Yuan did not notice as he watched Zhang He effortlessly dodge, blocked and rolled out from another one of his enchanted arrows. Xiahou Yuan cursed, his accuracy and precision were second to none, how could he dodge them so well?

Zhang he sprung into the air once more and pounced down claws first on the only slightly surprised Xiahou Yuan. Xiahou Yuan shouted out in pain as one the claws managed to dig in and pierce the armor in his left shoulder. he had been careless but at least he managed to dodge the brunt of Zhang He's aerial attack. He immediately jumped back to knock his bow with more arrows.

He regarded Zhang He with an almost pure curiosity, dissimilar to that of the Lady Zhen Ji. What a pair of generals he had met here on the battlefield today! Xiahou Yuan's jaw nearly fell out of his head when that woman ordered his cousin about like that. Her beauty could easily make any man develop dark thoughts, but the gall that woman had! The moxie and her attitude! She had the makings to be extreme trouble for his usually cautious Lord Cao Pi.

No wonder Cao Pi wanted her. He grew so bored of the normal hand maidens he found typically about. Ha! Cao Pi may be in over his head this time!

Xiahou Yuan unleashed four arrows at once aimed perfectly at his heart. His blood pumped the adrenaline into his greedy, strong body. He didnt wait to see if the arrows reached their intended target before he grabbed some more. Though Zhen Ji could be described accurately as unique, unique didn't even come close to describing the general he currently fought with.

No one had ever managed to spook his horse like that before, and make him look like a damned amateur getting thrown! His own cousin, when in a better mood, will be mocking him for it later.

Zhang He darted towards Xiahou Yuan, his side had one particularly nasty gash from where an arrow nearly pierced him. If Zhang He experienced any pain from the wound, it did not faze him as he used his superior agility to zig-zag and cut the distance between them; the best strategy when dealing with an opponent who wielded a weapon that worked better at a distance.

Shiiiiinnnggg

Zhang He's claws sang against Xiahou Yuan's strong bow. And Zhang He felt his blood boiling, He wanted nothing more than to render this clumsy, slow man without limbs, and though the smoke might be getting to him, he thought he saw his opponent almost waiver in his intensity. Zhang He felt fire course through his veins as he pushed forth with all his might on his shorter adversary and almost succeeded in breaking the bow. When Xiahou Yuan used his superior strength to knock him back, Zhang He, at a disadvantage due to his higher center of gravity, felt himself fall back, and while he twisted and landed in a lunge, plunging away right as arrows hit the dirt where he once fell. The lava still coursed through his body, begging to erupt.

"Ah, you will have to do better than that little panda if you want to hit the glorious Zhang He!" Zhang He laughed, despite appearances, Xiahou Yuan seemed to be a bit less of a meat-head, and a bit more of a truly skilled marksman, the gash on his side proved it, no archer had hit him in a very long while. Perhaps this battle will prove a fruitful ending for him indeed. A true challenge!

"Little...Panda? Who in the seven Hells are you calling little? or Panda? You will know of my reputation!" Xiahou Yuan knew that Zhang He had just said that to taunt him, but Xiahou Yuan did not take condescension well, on top of almost losing the deadlock. During that time of being so close to him, he noticed the tightly bridled fury behind his placid expression. Something had riled this guy up! He looked way too slender to logically want to test him in a fight of strength!

Xiahou Yuan noticed all the little details, you had to when you were an expert archer, the way his long dark pony tail whipped around, the way he favored his right hand, but his left leg, the gold hoops through his ears, the way the corners of his mouth were turned slightly up, even when his eyes betrayed the opposite emotion. He could have sworn this man fought for revenge, but revenge against what? He burnt Wu Chao to ashes, not he! He had never even met this man in battle before, and he would definitely remember someone like him.

This man truly astounded him, he had never seen someone fight like him. His stance denoted someone who embodied what he wanted to see in others. And for once, on the field of battle, Xiahou Yuan didn't want to kill his enemy, and contemplated even letting him go, even if his own dismembered corpse is exactly what Zhang He wanted to satisfy his bloodlust.

So, Xiahou Yuan knew he had to end this. and end it now.

"Your reputation? ha! By the looks of it, your reputation is but a leaf on a tree in a forest. Now, Prepare to reach even greater heights!" Zhang He gritted his teeth against his wound, and sprung into action, he dug the balls of his feet low in the ashen soil and twisted his body clockwise. The violet thrashed around him, as his his claws minced the air in front of him, his aim was true, he was surging right for him. Zhang He's expression, however, turned grave, he could feel the gash weeping too much blood; hindsight being he should have waited for the othe general to get close to him and used his Moonlit Butterfly attack, but he was wearing out, and knew he would be unable to close the gap between them in order to properly execute the attack.

Zhang He knew chose the wrong tactic, but the heat surging through him demanded more blood to be spilled, not patience. Everything this general embodied made him more and more frustrated. the cocky little smile, the incapability of getting close enough to do any real damage. This man infuriated him, past the point of any real logical strategy. He had hoped his face did not betray this boiling stew of emotion.

Xiahou Yuan, caught completely off guard form this attack had less a second before the drilling claws pierced his heavy armor. If Xiahou Yuan were ever one to panic, now would have been the the time. however, he knew he had one way out of this, and he thanked himself for saving the attack. He overdrew his bow and magic surged through him, the arrow alight and tingling with unspent energy.

"I've more than earned my reputation!" Xiahou Yuan bellowed as his arrow screamed from its perch on the bow rest. If a witness were to watch, it was like two colossal energies colliding, one pure white, one deep violet for a single moment, mingling, condensing, then in a vicious snarl of magic, detonating. Even the ground beneath them winced.

Zhang He could see time itself slow down. He allowed himself a momentary glimpse at the smoke choked sky above, and he swore he could see a few stars. His body felt devoid of any last elements of rage, or energy. His brain could only fathom a sincere, overwhelming since of melancholy. Flashes of his life up until now haunted him: learning to shoot his first arrow, his first kill, joining the grand Yuan Shao army. The first time he met the impertinent Zhen Ji, The time when he first used his claws, the sakura garden, the feast before this battle. The last time he saw Zhen Ji alive. This is what it felt like, he vaguely realized, to be his victims, to note their own worth and mortality, their impact on this world.

And what had he done? Not nearly enough! That pulled him out of his reverie. Maybe there was hope yet, maybe if he landed this back-flip properly he could execute one last attack.

But Zhang He, for the first time in a long time, didn't know how far away he was from the ground, and mid flip he realized he was just too close. his knees hit the dirt and his momentum drove him backwards, skidding across the ashy ground. Close to him a flaming post of wood fell.

His body couldn't respond properly; he was on his hands and knees, using all available energy to push himself into a kneel, maybe he could be worth something in all of this. He could realize his dream. He could prove to all of the challengers out there, that their ugly ambitions were devoid of anything worth living for. Zhang He, the underestimated, the butterfly of war, still flew.

He looked up, his sharp eyes alight in determination faltered when he saw the chest armor of the general in front of him, and felt the tip of an arrow at the crown of his head. Zhang He's face blanked out, at least his end was with this general and not the one with oversized compensation weapon.

Zhang He knew his end could be a lot worse, to a lot less worthy of an adversary, he was an artist with a bow and arrow, that was for sure. Not many lived that could fend him off with just bows and arrows like this general could. Their battle exuded many forms of beauty and grace that Zhang He should be able to live with, and feel content with.

But he didn't, the chasm within him grew wide.

All those pretty demons rumbled through his head at once, that his dreams, his ambitions of making this world a being of complete harmony and beauty, would never be realized. and if in the future it would come to pass, his hand did not forge it. His inner demons in his body shifted about, reveling in the defeated Zhang He, that his foolish dream, his impossible vision will never come to be!

You've wasted your life fighting for the wrong things, and look where its left you, with a dead best friend, an arrow in your head in a burning supply depot! So weak! so delusional! Such a waste!

His fists curled up in the ash, the ash he created. There must be some sort of reference, everything comes full circle? destruction only breeds destruction? some nugget of wisdom his mind is unable to grasp, since the world is finally starting to make even less sense. The adrenaline wears off, and his searing pain he feels across his body makes him want to crumple.

He failed, and for the first time in a long time; Zhang He felt desolate.

"Look, uh...I don't know what got you so riled up, but I hope you know this ain't nothin' personal, Ya'll just lost the battle." Xiahou Yuan admitted without emotion, almost apologetically. Xiahou swore he saw the enchanted arrow hit the man kneeling before him, but if it had, he would surely be dead. So why was he alive? Xiahou Yuan could tell the man before him was in some state of shock, the man was shaking badly from exertion, the blood pouring freely, he couldn't see the face of the man beneath his arrow, and that frankly pissed him off.

Don't keep your head down damnit! Even Xiahou Yuan noticed submission didn't suit him.

This crazy man who burned down his own supply depot, who stayed inside, who taunted his brother, should never be kneeling before him like this. He wouldn't allow it He felt exhilarated after this battle, he had never before felt so on edge, teetering on the brink of losing control, of losing the battle. Xiahou Yuan never shied away from blood or killing on the battle field, but he wanted to figure this guy out, what made him tick, how on earth he became so fluid! so fast!

He had never before encountered an enemy that made him question his entire strategy and no way could he let him die looking down at the dirt, like a man defeated. Because, really, Xiahou Yuan thought, it could have so easily swung the other way, and he be in this man's position right now. If he hadn't saved up his magic for that one last attack, he wouldn't be talking right now.

Yet, Xiahou Yuan noticed the fists clenched in the Earth and knew that this man would not grovel at his feet like any others. This general before him, his pride thundered when he struck. It also took a real man of courage to wear such little Armour as he did. Or stupidity. Xiahou Yuan was still trying to figure that out. He wanted the chance to figure it out.

Zhang He lost it.

And Zhang He knew no longer of any justice in this world.

"Is this how she died?" He looked up to Xiahou Yuan, his sharp eyes reflecting the flames engulfing Wu Chao. His neck straining to stare up into the dark forest green eyes that held no malice. Zhang He outraged. How could his opponant not look down on him with disgust and hate? What was wrong with this guy? His face displayed No playful smirk, No mirthful tilt to his eyebrows, Zhang He felt his strength waning, and wanted to know the truth before he died.

"Huh? who? Oh...do you mean that bossy chick who kills people with a flute?" Xiahou Yuan legitimately seemed confused. "She isn't dead, in fact, our Lord is pretty taken with her." Xiahou Yuan didnt miss the complete shock that painted itself across Zhang He's features. And then all the pieces came together. This general before him and Zhen Ji obviously were friends, or possibly something more, but the lack of outrage or jealousy on his face indicated their relation is most likely platonic. Siblings maybe? Xiahou Yuan couldn't be certain. He could feel his chest become lighter now, knowing now what plagued the man kneeling before him.

"You know, our lord would probably get a kick out of you too. he likes the strong and crazy ones, as proof!" He flashed an award winning smile, holding a lot of humor. Xiahou Yuan wanted this general to join them. They could always use another blade, and obviously he was worth his keep.

"What do ya say? Want to join Wei? No offense, but it doesnt look like there is much left for you here...unless you like bonfires." Xiahou Yuan laughed heartily, and didn't miss the expression of puzzlement that Zhang He expressed. Xiahou Yuan that Zhang He expressed himself a lot more when not engaged in battle. Perhaps he Xiahou yuan acted on ulterior motives as well. He truly wanted to see the general before him join forces for Zhang He's own benefit, for the betterment of Wei, but also because he knew there wouldn't ever be a dull moment with him around.

And in times like these, Wei could use some lighter spirits.

Xiahou Yuan slowly let the bowstring draw slack, and he removed the arrow from the crown of Zhang He's head, giving him free reign to stand. He took a calculated risk, he was still in a lot better condition than the general in front of him, but he still didn't know how the man might lash out. Did he take his invitation as an insult? Was he deeply loyal to the Yuans? Did it matter? Would he just try to slay him anyway? Xiahou Yuan inwardly gulped, sometimes he trusted his intuition too much and it got him into trouble; he usually had Dun to back him up. But he alone stood in front of the erratic Yuan general, a general who lit afire his own supply depot!

"Yes...I see now. Cao Cao's light, it shines...as bright as this bonfire! Brighter than the Yuan's ever could! and I too, My beauty shall shine even brighter too! This will be the dawn of a new day of elegance indeed!" Xiahou Yuan all but fell backwards when Zhang He's signature indigo and violet butterflies burst from his kneeling form as he twirled up into a slow pirouette. His expression a lit with the purple from the incantations and orange from the fire.

Zhang He had never been more filled with hope. Zhen Ji, alive! yes, perhaps captured, but he would see to it she would not fall victim to the same cruelty that Yuan Xi subjected her to. Could this be the answer they were looking for? Their escape? Their second chance? Perhaps Cao Cao could see his eternal dream, and help realize it with him? Perhaps Zhen Ji and he could spar and rest beneath sakura branches unperturbed others. He felt as light as the butterflies surrounding him, and he heard horses towards the almost completely engulfed Wu Chao.

Zhen Ji, A general with twin swords, most presumably the Son of Cao Cao, Lord Cao Pi, and the other general from earlier, the one with the large scimitar. Zhang He smirked, he would be fun to mess with.

"Uh...great?" Xiahou Yuan looked back towards his cousin, his lord, and that bossy woman, who he had to admit, had a lot of guts. "Yeah, You know, I never did catch your name while we were fighting. I'm Xiahou Yuan, that there is my cousin Xiahou Dun, and of course to his left is Lord Cao Pi, son of Cao Cao." Xiahou Yuan introduced, almost with an air of bashfulness about him. He put his bow back, and he saw a shadow on the ground coming from behind and over him.

I swear he is some sort of freak acrobat!

Zhang He landed in an almost perfect stance, wincing a little from the wound, His arms up in a victory formation as he twisted and turned his wrists then arms till they were crossed in front of himself.

"I am the Glorious Zhang He!" He announced, of course with more butterflies.

In the background, Xiahou Yuan could see Cao Pi quirk and eyebrow and glance down at his bride to be. She answered back with nothing but chin lift. His cousin grumbled something incoherent and turned away from the lot of them.

Xiahou Yuan sighed, and gave a light chuckle. He certainly did not expect this to happen on the war torn plains of Guan Du.

Of all things, butterflies.

* * *

><p>Hi! thank you all for the wonderful reviews! This chapter is out, I hope it is alright, I don't know if its as heart wrenching as the last one, I really like to try to keep these two characters a bit lighter. this chapter didnt strike me as amazing as the last, but i do like the playful attitudes of the two generals here, it cant be all serious!<p>

and don't worry, this wont turn into a xiahou dun bash fic or anything, i just would think that zhen ji and zhang he would get under his skin a bit.

I am not that great with historical time lines, so ill have to research this a bit for the upcoming battles. and as ive said before, this is more based of dynasty warriors the game, not to be historically accurate portrayal. i will try to keep things in the historical setting, but if you want a fic that follows the history of the games, then you may want to discontinue to read here.

next up, we will see if things are what Zhen Ji and Zhang He hope for when they get settled in at Wei's main city! :)

thank you!

-TL


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